Liquor and Lust
by welchandsummers
Summary: Effie can't stop scolding Haymitch and Haymitch can't stop eyeballing Effie. Very light smut. Slight Effie/Seneca but Hayffie ftw.


"I hate you, Haymitch Abernathy!" Effie spits. She's in a rage now and I can't help but finding it hilarious.

So I laugh and take another swig of liquor. "Ehh, don't be like that, princess. You love me!"

"Ugh!" Effie flees to the kitchenette of the penthouse, leaving me on the couch. "You have been drunk all day! Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta need you! You are the closest chance either one of them has to surviving the Games! Peeta can't…" Effie trails off when she notices me eyeing at her body in that damn tight dress. "Haymitch! Honestly!"

"Hey, I wasn't doing anything. Just.." My excuse is half-hearted as my line of sight slowly drifts down her figure. "Observing."

She prissily crosses her arms. "Observing?" Her tone reminds me of the woman that called herself my mother back in 12: fussy, stiff, critical. "Haymitch, the Games start in three days. Three days. Do you know what that means?"

"That they start in three days?"

"That Katniss and Peeta will likely be dead by the end of the week. You are their mentor. You have to prevent their death." Effie paces about the carpet, not missing a step in those obnoxious heels she has. "You can't keep eyeballing me like I'm just a piece of meat, Haymitch!"

I groan and set my glass down on the drawer beside me. I know what I'm about to do will likely get me in some trouble. I get up and stand so close to Effie you could hear her little heart beating. "What if that's all you are?" I wrap my arms around her waist. "Maybe you're just a piece of meat."

Her pink lip curls with displeasure and she raises a finger at me . "Haymitch Abernathy, how dare you. You-"

Effie breaks off when I wrap a finger around her outstretched one. "What's the matter, Trinket? Seneca never talked to you like this? Seneca wouldn't treat you like this? No… you were Seneca's little princess, weren't you? You did anything he wanted," I state, simply and plainly.

"What Seneca and I had, if anything, is none of your business. Nor should it be any of your concern." I can hear the disgust in her voice.

"Tsk, tsk, Trinket. You're a Capitol girl, aren't you? You should have heard by now. The Gamemaker and 12's escort. So scandalous. I didn't know you had it in you."

Effie pulls off of my body. "What did you hear?"

There are so many ways I can go with this. I could tease her, I could lie to her. But I go easy on her, for now. "Just that a certain escort has been spotted walking out of a certain Gamemaker's home early on Sunday mornings. For awhile now, actually."

"You're lying," she scowls.

I step towards her, knowing she'll get angry again. "Would I lie, sweetheart? Isn't lying considered bad manners?"

"Where did you hear that?" Effie asks.

"It'd be easier to tell you where I didn't hear it, princess. I'm surprised Caesar Flickerman hasn't covered this already." I can tell I'm driving her crazy.

"_Honestly_, Haymitch." And that's when I know I've gotten to her. That I've tangled myself into her wig so far into it she'll need a shovel to get me out. I'm under her skin and she hates it and I don't know how I feel about it. Because under all those globs of girly make-up her cheeks flush a shade of magenta. "Go to bed. You're drunk," she instructs, obviously wanting to drop the subject.

"Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart." I once again drape my arms around her shoulders. My words fall down her neck as I lean into her.

"_Haymitch_…" She's not fussing anymore. She's just saying my name, simply and plainly. Something unfamiliar inside of me stirs. I think I like it. "Haymitch."

"Effie, please." I let my hands trail down her arms. Her skin is velvet at my touch. "Effie, I need you to shut up."

Effie half-gasps and half-scoffs. "_That's_-"

I cut her off. "_Shhh. Effie, shush_."

"You do not shush me, Haymitch Abernathy! I - _Oh_. " She breaks off when she feels rough kisses up and down her neck.

At this moment all I can feel is Effie Trinket. I'm smelling her skin and getting traces of some kind of fruity perfume. I'm holding her hand and at some point during all of this she wraps her arms around my back. My heart is racing and as I travel down her neck I feel that hers is too.

Effie doesn't protest at all. She doesn't exactly give in, either. But during the night her words, _"I hate you,"_ come back to me. Does she hate me now? Do I hate her? I think back to when I would do anything to have her shut her mouth. But now, her moans are motivation for me to keep going, to give her more.

And I do. The whole night passes in a blur. Maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's the lust. A few moments stick out for me. Effie moaning my name. Me moaning hers. Her breath, hot on my back. My breath, laced with liquor, on hers.

When I wake up, with Effie laying beside me, I'm not sure what I've done. I'm not even positive this is what I want.

But then, Effie, looking so beautiful with sunlight drifting from the window onto her skin, and still sleeping, pulls my hand towards her body with a tenderness I didn't know she had.

And that's when I am positive I want this.

A/N: So this was really fun to write. And yeah. I don't have much to say. But please rate and review! x


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